


So Long, Farewell

by snailmeamail



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Goodbyes, Mando has feelings, Other, Spoilers, also cara/mando, if you really want it, or Lovers, whatever floats your boat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22099720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snailmeamail/pseuds/snailmeamail
Summary: A four-chaptered fic about goodbyes/what could've happened if Mando hadn't left so soon.(contains spoilers for S1)
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Cara Dune
Comments: 17
Kudos: 97





	1. So Long (Cara)

Mando sits on a high ridge, letting his boots dangle over the edge and watching the suns fade into night. The desert dunes are golden from up here. Just a little ways away are the lava fields. He can already see their light.  
  
Cara Dune sits beside him, her legs crisscrossed. She leans back. The tattoo on her bicep is the color of nighttime; she's got no reason to hide it. Mando always thought she was beautiful. Not the kind of person he would go after, but beautiful nonetheless. Tough but kind. In some other lifetime, they could've been something more.  
  
But Mando has other things he needs to attend to. The child is with Greef—after everything, he has good reason to trust the man. Besides, he gets along well with the child. Just as well as IG-11 had.  
  
Mando tips his head slightly. The full weight of the absence of the droid hits him. It had happened only two hours ago.  
  
Is he sad, as the droid had observed?  
  
He can't tell you why his voice broke the way it did. Why he had felt his sharpshooter hands shake just a little more than usual. Why he suddenly had so many more things to say.  
  
It's funny that the only person to see his face died immediately afterward. One big joke from the universe.  
  
Mando isn't known for laughing. So that's not what he's doing now.  
  
"Hey," Cara says out into the warm air, "You doing okay?"  
  
"Fine," he replies, "Beat up. Tired. It's been a long day."  
  
"Your wound?"  
  
He reaches up to touch the back of his neck. There's a trail of crusted blood dribbled down his nape, but he'd clean that later.  
  
"Healed, thanks to that droi...IG-11."  
  
Cara creases her eyebrows at the mention. She sighs and looks back over the landscape. He wonders if she's hurting, too.  
  
"That's good," she says, and her eyes are glassy. He thinks it might be the light. "He didn't die in vain, then."  
  
"I never got to thank him for saving my life," Mando fiddles with the odds and ends on his belt. "Saving us. If it wasn't for him, I would've never found my way back to the child."  
  
"Your son," Cara throws a smirk his way, "When I first met you, I mean, _wrangled_ you like a bucking dewback, I never imagined you'd become a father. But here we are. You're a clan of two, as the lady said."  
  
"The Armourer. You’d get along. And...Yes. I am responsible for the child. This is the way. The Foundlings are an integral part of the clan; without them, the Mandalorians wouldn't have become so strong."  
  
She pauses. Mando can feel the weight of the coming question.  
  
"What Moff said back there," she says cautiously, "Your name. Are you comfortable with using it?"  
  
Another sore spot. Another secret forced out of him.  
  
"Din Djarin is the name I was born with. I can't do much to change that. But...it's been a while since I've heard it. It'll be strange. I don't...I don't even remember my parents calling me Din."  
  
He doesn't remember what they had said to him before they put him in that cellar, either. He assumes he didn't hear it because his heart had been pounding in his ears. But it's more than that. He remembers the gunpowder smell of the world. The sparks flying. The marching fleet of droids.  
  
But no sound. Not a single decibel.  
  
Mando finds that day the reason for his tinnitus. Maybe that's why he didn't hear anything. The ringing in his ears had come far before his eighteenth birthday.  
  
"...Mando, that's...that's horrible." The sympathy in her voice is raw, so open it makes him uncomfortable.  
  
To hear Cara Dune this gentle is unnerving. Even as he lay in that bar with the fires roaring all around them, believing he was going to die, she was fierce, willing him to live. He could never forget the look of horror on her face as her hand came away bloody from his nape. He guesses it was from the shock of it all—the black spots dancing at the edge of his vision, the numbness, the throbbing headache—that he remembers it.  
  
He never wants to see that expression on her face again.  
  
It's nighttime when he speaks.  
  
"Thank you, Cara," he murmurs, his voice hoarser than it should be, "For saving my life. For promising to keep the kid safe in the event that I actually..."  
  
"I should be thanking you," she replies, just as soft, "You saved all our lives. You saved this town from those damn Imperials. We can live in peace now, because of you. It'll be a cold day in hell when you die before your kid grows, Mando. I'll make damn sure of that."  
  
He enjoys the fact that she can't see the little smile on his face, bloodied and cut as it may be.  
  
"It's Din. It's been an honor to work with you, Cara. I hate saying goodbyes, but...this is it."  
  
"Din," she repeats, a breath away from laughing, "The honor is mine. You're going to be a good pa. I know you will. And, hey, if you ever need an extra pair of hands...I thought I didn't do the baby thing, but the little feller has grown on me."  
  
"He'll miss you." _I will, too._ He leaves it unsaid. "We should get going. Greef could be teaching the kid all sorts of things."  
  
He gets up and pats the dust off of his pants. Cara does the same. She brushes her purple-pink tinged hair back behind her ear and takes one last good look at the horizon, then to him.  
  
"Yeah," her smile is radiant, "Yeah, let's go."  
  
They walk down the ridge together.  
  
Mando had left Greef and the child by his ship, just an hour after he had buried Kuill. He wonders if the child understands the sudden loss of the wise rancher, if he's hurting just as much as his father is. Kuill was a good person. He had had a full life of peacefulness ahead of him, but one meeting with Mando and he was dead the next cycle.  
  
Death never ends, Mando realizes. It wouldn't be long before Greef, Cara, or even himself would die. By whoever's hand, in any way possible. Today was a clear reminder that he wasn't immortal, that nobody could escape it.  
  
But that's life. That's what he was taught growing up. What he grew up surrounded by. It's how it is.  
  
If Cara, the child, or even Greef ever came into harm's way, he'd move heaven and earth to protect them.  
  
That is a promise.  
  
When they arrive at his ship, the little one is levitating stones in intricate arcs all around him. Greef is clapping, playing along mostly, but Mando can tell that he's thoroughly impressed.  
  
"Have you seen what this kid can do?" He calls out once he sees them, "Amazing! Why, I've never seen anything like it, no sir."  
  
"He protected Mando from the fires by controlling the blast with his powers," Cara scoffs, "And a game of jack stones is what impresses you?"  
  
"After today, I'll take simplicity over fireworks," Greef chortles, "The kid is really something."  
  
The little one lays eyes on his father and coos. The stones drop to the sand. The foundling waddles over to him. He hugs his boot and looks up at him with those big bug eyes. His head is tipped. Unconsciously, Mando mirrors him.  
  
"Little one," he says as a greeting, "Did Greef treat you well?"  
  
He takes the child's gurgle as a yes, and not a “ _Never let him babysit me again.”_ Greef nods with a smile that says, “ _See? Told you I could do it.”_

Mando shakes his head. It might be the concussion, but his jaw is starting to hurt. It is in no way related to how much he's smiling. No correlation whatsoever. You'd be crazy to think the Mando was beaming with the pure joy of being alive, of having a family, friends.  
  
It's bonkers to think that, despite everything—the blood that crusts his lip and the wounds that still ache—Mando is happy.  
  
The day had been lunacy incarnate. How much crazier could it get, anyway?


	2. Farewell (Greef)

"Easy, easy—"  
  
"To your left, no, no, _your_ left...okay, set it down."  
  
The supply box hits the ground with a thud. Greef brushes a gloved hand across his forehead, panting as though he had carried a whole dewback by himself. He gives Mando a thumbs up, to which he replies with a nod.   
  
"You know," Mando says, "You don't have to give me these supplies. You've done more than enough."  
  
"Now, hold on, Mando," Greef stops him with a hand, "Think of this as my apology. I am...not proud of what I did, setting the guild on you like that. I was so caught up in the amount of coin that child would bring that I didn't see that it was a _child._ Whatever the Imperials wanted with him, it doesn't matter now. I'm sorry."  
  
He can consider his time with Greef Karga as one of the most confusing periods in his life. One moment, they're playing the cat and mouse game. The next, Greef helps save his and the child's life. Mando doesn't know if he can consider Greef his friend just yet. Because, after all, he _did_ try to kill him. And yet, his instincts aren't screaming at him to run away.  
  
"Thank you," Mando murmurs, then goes to get the next box. He can feel Greef's eyes boring into the back of his helmet and feels the open air. Greef is about to say something more, but he doesn't. The moment passes.  
  
The next container is surprisingly heavier than the first. Mando looks back at Greef.   
  
"What's in this?" He asks, "It's heavier than a carriage of beskar."  
  
A warm smile breaks out on Greef's face. He gestures to the lid of the container. "Take a look."  
  
Mando hesitates, then pushes the container's lock. It pops open with a hiss. Inside are sheets of transparisteel, though they're forged from another kind of material that isn't easy to come by. Dark, carbon glass, hardy enough to withstand even the deadliest of dogfights.  
  
"...what's this?" The bounty hunter questions, picking up a sheet carefully. It's cool to the touch.  
  
"Oh, yes. Transparisteel. No offense, Mando, but your ship is falling apart. It's only a matter of time before some things have to be replaced, you know. You could also trade off the extra bits for currency. I know we got off on the wrong foot. I owe you this much."  
  
Mando considers this. It's true; his ship is an older model, but it functions just fine. "Greef. It's alright. I don't need this much." He pauses, then continues, "There are other people who need this more than I do. People off planet. Desperate towns that need the resources. Ship it out to them and I'll consider your debt paid."  
  
Greef opens his mouth to argue but thinks better of it. He nods and in his eyes Mando can see a certain look of admiration. It's far different from the gaze Greef had set on him when he was still the man's prized bounty hunter. That had been appraisal of a jewel worth millions. This was a look telling him that he was a good person.  
  
Just like Cara's sudden openness, it makes him squirm. Emotions aren't really his strong suit.  
  
"Sure, Mando," Greef's smile gets that much bigger, "I can do that."  
  
After the last of the containers are loaded in—one of which Mando discovers is mainly comprised of snacks for the foundling—Greef stands at the end of the open hatch door. Mando comes down the bay to meet him.  
  
"Well," Greef huffs, "It's been a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mando. I've never met a man like you before and I don't think I ever will again. Wherever you go, good luck."  
  
"The pleasure's mine. It's not every day that someone who tried to kill me saves my life the next time we meet."  
  
"Ha. Say goodbye to the child for me, okay? I would but...gosh, I think I'll tear up." He wipes a nonexistent tear from his eye and takes a step toward the open desert. "I'm going back to town, see if I can calm things down a little. Will I be seeing you?"  
  
Mando tips his head, then shakes it. "No."  
  
"Farewell, Mando."  
  
The man walks away. The bounty hunter watches his retreating figure until it's too dark to see anymore.   
  
"Farewell, Greef," Mando says to the open air. He supposes that, in this moment, Greef has become his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little shorter than cara's, i know, but i promise the next ones will be a bit longer than this ^_^  
> stick around because we have 2 more chapters to go!


	3. Auf Wiedersehen (IG-11)

Mando lets the night carry his time away.  
  
The stars, the breeze, and the cool sand—it was all worth it to pause for one moment. To sit back. To prepare for whatever would come next.  
  
Mando doesn't know what will happen after this period in time. What will happen in an hour, a day, a month? The thought of what may be around the corner has him sitting for longer than he intended.   
  
To stave off the impending crisis and worry, he decides to think about what has already happened. He's been thinking about it the whole day.   
  
The bounty hunter hasn't even left yet and he already misses his friends. He promised himself, however, that he wouldn't go back to town. There's nothing left for him here on Tatooine but the memory of what has passed.  
  
When he recounted his past to Cara, there on the ridge, he didn't know where his vulnerability had come from. It could've been because Cara's had his back in a variety of circumstances, no matter what or who they were up against. Mando trusts her and he hopes it goes both ways. When she had held him in the bar, protected him from the fires—he had been conscious enough to feel her so close—it became clear to him that she was the strongest person he knew.  
  
Greef, on the other side of the coin, was...well, Greef. In all his years of hunting for the Guild, he and Greef had built up a somewhat grudging trust. Now, it still wasn't clear what dance they were waltzing through, but Mando could call it a budding companionship.   
  
He's said his goodbyes to the people who are still here. To the people who are gone...  
  
His eyes find the small mound of stones a little ways away from his ship. He swallows the stone in his throat and looks away into the sky.   
  
Tatooine has always had the nicest nights. The deep blue fading into black with the silhouettes of far off mountains surrounding him. It's home. Even for a wandering vagabond like him, he can call it that much. He's only sorry that he can't give the foundling the same. Mando despises the idea of a home where the child isn't there.   
  
He lets the Jedi become a far off thought. As far as he's concerned, there's no rush to get the kid back to wherever he came from.   
  
The cold darkness of the desert cools his burned skin. It's not because of the fires in the bar. The lava tunnel had been a suffocatingly hot. The soot and sulphur along the walls had made it hard to breathe, even with already ragged lungs.   
  
Mando has seen an IG unit self-destruct once or twice. Their secondary objective was to die, if ever the threat of capture was apparent. They've been made to be loyal to the guild to the very end.   
  
The force of IG-11's destruction had burned the Imps to a crisp. There's nothing left of them, nothing to say that they were there, once.  
  
Just as it is now for IG-11.  
  
There's nothing left but the memory of him.  
  
The heavy, broken goodbye.  
  
The spark, the heat, and the light that followed. The ashes that clogged the air.   
  
The thanks left on Mando's lips.  
  
He's reluctant now to admit that maybe, just _maybe,_ droids aren't all that bad. He's still hung up over the fact that, technically, he owes his life to IG-11, a droid that isn't even here.   
  
A debt that goes unpaid is just as bad as a goodbye being left unsaid.  
  
So, he does what he can to fix that.   
  
"Until we meet again," he says to the sky, unsure of where IG-11 would've ended up, if ever. He doesn't know if there's an after. Like, a definite _after._ He's never thought about it until now.   
  
"Until we meet again."  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only one more chapter to go. will upload tomorrow ;)


	4. Goodnight (Kuill)

He has one last thing to do before he leaves Tatooine.   
  
He kneels in front of the mound of stones and bows his head.  
  
Maybe he's praying.  
  
Maybe he isn't.   
  
One thing is for certain: he's mourning. He's mourning the loss of a good companion, a brave man, and a kind rancher who deserved a lifetime of peace. Kuill worked for so long to achieve that.   
  
Mando hopes life had been good to Kuill before he came along. That he had had all the sunsets and sunrises he wanted.   
  
Now, it's nighttime. The sun will rise in a few hours. It will be the first without Kuill. There will be more, as the years go by, but Mando will never forget the first, when the grief was still fresh like the coarse dirt under his knees, the wounds on his lip.  
  
The child won't feel the absence of Kuill—he's too young. But Mando will tell him one day. He'll tell the foundling, _his_ foundling, all about the rancher. Once again, he has debts that went unpaid.   
  
There's nothing he can do for that now.  
  
He decides that it's time to go.  
  
"Goodnight, Kuill," he rasps, and leaves.   
  
The foundling is sound asleep in his crib in the cockpit, wrapped up to the nines in his little robe. It's been a hard day for the both of them. Mando closes the hatch and prepares for takeoff.   
  
The ship rumbles like a dewback and lifts off of the ground. They're in the sky in no time. Tatooine disappears from his view and the cold black of space fills its place.   
  
He leans back. Already, the absence of Cara, Greef, IG-11, and Kuill are starting to hurt.  
  
 _So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, good night.  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end :)  
> thank you for reading these little snippets all the way to the end <3


End file.
